Zheewa

zheewa

a novel by

Joe Sweeney

zheewa

by Joe Sweeney

Copyright ©2011 by writer(aka) publishing, llc

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by JS Blume Publishing™.

eBook Edition

Cover image based on future Pangea

Pangea Proxima by C. R. Scotese

PALEOMAP Project

www.scotese.com

Used with permission

Other Titles by Joe Sweeney

Prompted to Write

Prompted to Write Volume 2

Prompted to Write Volume 3

Mad Queen’s Chess

A Random Collection of Events

For more information about zheewa, please visit:

http://astutedata.com/zheewa/

Chapter 1

A bright spot appears over my head, piercing the darkness, expanding with my consciousness. It’s almost like I’m being pulled head first through a fish-eye lens from a dark room into a lighted one. As my awareness comes into focus, I sense that I’m lying on my back in a hospital bed. At least, that’s my impression. It has that hospital smell and feel and sound.

I take a deep breath and smell isopropyl alcohol with an undertone of musk. The odd, pungent odor sharpens my focus. I roll my head to the right and wince against the bright sunshine coming in through a large window. Rolling my head to the left reveals a wall. I can hear from over my head the beep-beep-beep of instrumentation and, from the direction of my feet, the sound of chatter through an open door.

I bring my hands up to my chest and roll my body onto my right side, grunting as I attempt to push myself into a sitting position. My arms don’t cooperate fully and my head spins from the effort, but I manage. I’m exhausted and sit with my head drooping.

I hear running footsteps and the voices become louder. A pair of legs dressed in earth tone pants enters my field of vision. The voices continue as the legs bend, arms and torso come into view, and finally…

I gasp and begin choking on a bit of saliva that’s in the wrong place at that moment. More footsteps and louder voices increase in intensity as they approach. I sense others on either side of me. Several pairs of hands hold me upright. I’m able to catch my breath, but I keep my gaze averted. This is partly because I’m still too weak to keep my head up, and partly because I don’t want confirmation of what I just saw.

A glass of water is placed to my lips, and I drink deeply. My gaze rises to see that face again, looking back at me. The voice is soft and unintelligible, and the expression on its face is unreadable. I almost choke on the water, so the glass is pulled away.

I feel myself staring. It appears to be close to 6 feet tall and a bit on the spindly side. Its head is vaguely cat-like – furry skin, triangular ears, large eyes, but no nose. There are slits, almost like gills, under the jaw that flaps slightly when it talks. The fur is very fine and silky with a light green tint, not like a cat’s fur but more like the fuzz on a peach. The ears don’t extend beyond the top of its head; instead, they kind of flow up from the side of the face and level out like a cat with its ears back. Its paws appear to have articulated fingers and thumbs just like mine, despite the fur, the pad, and the short claws – three fingers, though; sort of elf-like. I get a little giddy and begin repeating a sing-song of the words elf-cats in my head, over and over.

I blink several times and start falling forward. I feel the arms around me again, gently laying me down on my back. Soft, melodious sounds are in my head. It’s very comforting, and soon I’m fast asleep.

* * *

I dream that I am a mouse in a maze. The corridors are dark and endless. Lightning flashes and illuminates the gloom around me. The roof is made of glass and through it I can see a raging storm with clouds shaped like cat faces. The bolts turn into paws that try to bat me around through the glass. I run back into the gloom, zigzagging through the labyrinth, looking for a way out but not wanting to find one for fear of the cats outside. The wind gusts and the walls crumble. The floor turns to quicksand. My feet are stuck and I cannot run. Another swipe from a cat cloud sets the floor spinning. The quicksand thins out and becomes an inverted maelstrom, the updraft pulling me up and out of the world I knew.

Chapter 2

A burst of light through the window awoke Sean Eagan. He peeked through heavy-lidded eyes and saw a cloud-shrouded full moon shining through my window. It looks just like the moon he remembered. A flash of lightning and a low rumble of distant thunder were all that was left of a storm. Perhaps he had only dreaming of elf-cats.

He sat up in the bed and looked around the small room. Against the right wall beside the bed was a single-drawer nightstand. To his left in the opposite corner along the back wall sat a reclining chair with an overhead reading lamp. Other than the bed chair and stand, there was no other furniture.

Opening the drawer of the nightstand, he stared at the contents: his wallet, keys, cell phone, tablet and MP3 player. He flipped open his cell phone to check the time, but saw nothing; there was no signal. He jangled his keys and then picked up his wallet. It contained his driver’s license, credit cards and some cash – not much more. He put his wallet down and picked up his tablet computer.

After the tablet powered up, he noticed the date – May 18, 2011. Opening the diary application, he pulled the stylus out of its storage slot and began writing.

Dear Diary: This is going to be one of those entries that make sense now but won’t when I read it later. I must be hallucinating or something. I vaguely remember the accident. I seem to be in a strange room. Maybe it’s a hospital because it smells like one. I feel fine, but I’m very tired. Maybe they have me on drugs and I really am hallucinating.

Sean turned off the tablet and put it away. He then lay back down in the bed and cuddled up next to the cool of the wall.

Chapter 3

Sean Eagan lay curled up in his favorite position on his left side, huddled against the wall in a semi-fetal position with his left leg pulled up knee to chest, but his right leg extended and the toes tucked between the wall and the bed. His hands were clasped and held close to his chest and his forearms were pressed against the wall. His face was turned so that it was also tucked between the wall and the bed. He felt the coolness of the wall against his right cheek. He smiled a contented and comfortable smile.

As he began to wake up, it dawned on him that the wall was curved slightly; he fit against it too well. The wall also had a very strange feel to it, sort of like a semi-hard, spongy material with a little bit of give. It didn’t feel like either wallboard or plaster and lath.

Sean pondered the odd sensation of it, and wondered if it was the product of his early morning semi-dream state. Bits and pieces of his earlier dream floated around in his head until one of the cat-faced clouds looked directly at him, talking in a soft and unintelligible voice.